


love of my life

by PaintedVanilla



Series: play the game [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1990s, Alternate Universe - Human, Anniversary, Anxiety Attacks, Biblical Scripture References (Abrahamic Religions), Declarations Of Love, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-12 18:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21480895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/pseuds/PaintedVanilla
Summary: when I grow olderi will be there at your side to remind youhow I still love youon their two year anniversary, crowley tries to ask aziraphale to marry him. it doesn't go exactly as planned. then again, with how badly his hands were shaking, he should have expected to drop the ring.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: play the game [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563577
Comments: 24
Kudos: 245





	love of my life

Sunday, September 27, 1992

Soho, London

* * *

Crowley can’t remember a time in his life when he’s ever sweat as hard as he is right now.

_ Aziraphale. _

He’s absolutely certain there must have been a point in time where he’d sweat as profusely as he currently is, but in the loud and crowded space that his brain is currently made of, he can’t seem to conjure up a memory of being sweaty. Not that he needs to be thinking about how sweaty he is. If anything, he should be mildly worried about it, but it certainly shouldn’t be the only thing on his mind.

_ I love you more than anything in my life. _

He reaches into his pocket for the millionth time and pulls the ring out; it feels like the heaviest thing he’s ever held, which seems ridiculous considering how truly _ small _it is. It rests in the palm of his hand, and he stares at it in silence. It’s gold— and decently composed of it, according to the man who appraised and resized it for him. He’d found it in an antique store tucked away in a corner he’s certain he never would have discovered if he hadn’t been out with Anathema. He’s fairly certain he started sweating when he paid for it and hasn’t stopped since.

_ Except maybe God. But that’s honestly debatable. But that’s blasphemous so maybe don’t tell Him. _

He turns it over in the palm of his hand, and then he hears Aziraphale coming up the stairs and he shoves it back into his pocket frantically. When Aziraphale appears in the living room, Crowley yanks his hand back out of his pocket and leans back against the couch awkwardly, offering him a smile that looks much more like a grimace. “Hey.”

Aziraphale offers him a curious smile. “I thought you were taking a nap.”

“Tried,” Crowley admits, because he really had. “Couldn’t fall asleep.”

“_You _couldn’t fall asleep?” Aziraphale asks, amused. 

Crowley squirms nervously. “Too much restless energy, I guess,” he says, and then he seals his fate: “Do you wanna go for a walk?”

Aziraphale pauses. “The sun is going down.”

“Perfect time for a walk, if you ask me,” Crowley says quickly. “Feels nice out.”

“It’ll get chilly once the sun is gone,” Aziraphale points out. “Your fingers might—”

“My coat has pockets,” Crowley points out quickly, standing up off the couch. “Come for a walk with me?”

“What’s the occasion?” Aziraphale teases with a smile.

“No occasion!” Crowley insists, wondering if the ring is burning a hole in the pocket of his jeans yet. “No occasion. Just— feel like walking around— wanna take you with me!”

Aziraphale shakes his head, a smile on his lips. “Let me go put my shoes on.”

_ Either way, I love you so, so much. _

He leaves the room, and Crowley lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He puts his shoes on and grabs his coat off the rack, transfering the ring into its pocket. He toys with it as he stands at the top of the stairs, waiting with mounting anxiety for Aziraphale to come back.

_ Sometimes I feel like a crazy person because I love you so much and I don’t know what to do about it so I just want to kiss you until we can’t breathe. _

They walk around the neighborhood, heading towards the same public garden they always wander around when they go out. There’s a cool breeze that Crowley is infinitely thankful for, considering he still hasn’t stopped sweating. He keeps his hands crammed into the pockets of his jacket. His palms are clammy. He keeps turning the ring over between his fingers. 

_ I want to be so close to you that we become one flesh the way God intended lovers to be. _

The sun has just about disappeared beneath the horizon, and Crowley swallows thicky, trailing along behind Aziraphale as he looks at the foliage. 

_ Mark 10:9: “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” _

“Er,” Crowley says, forcing himself to take the plunge. “I heard they— put in a bird bath.”

“Oh, did they?” Aziraphale asks, looking back at him. 

“Yeah,” Crowley nods. His face is hot and he’s _ still _ sweating, and briefly he wonders why he’s doing this, before he remembers he’s making a fool out of himself because he loves Aziraphale more than anything. He doesn’t really care how stupid he makes himself look if Aziraphale ends up saying _ yes. _

“One of those fancy ones with— marbles and gemstones in the cement and shit like that,” Crowley continues nervously. “It’s— just up ahead…”

_ It would quite literally make me the single happiest man on Earth if you agreed to being my husband. _

Aziraphale turns away, walking ahead to see it, and Crowley follows along behind him. Aziraphale stops in front of the bird bath; it is quite ornate, and it shimmers slightly in the dwindling sunlight. Crowley waits until he’s paused, and he’s certain he’s not going to turn around, and then he shoves his hand into his coat pocket and gets down on one knee.

His knees crack as he bends down.

Aziraphale turns around.

They make eye contact.

“_Good Lord_,” Crowley hisses.

All things considered, he should have known himself better. He should have recognized how his hands shake at the best of times and how they were absolutely trembling at the _ thought _ of bending down on one knee, let alone actually _ doing it_. He should have considered the fact that he has a blood vessel disorder that gets triggered by his nerves and the cold, and he should have factored in that he’s currently scared out of his mind and that it’s also quite chilly. 

In short, he either should have put it in a box, or realized that he was going to drop the fucking ring.

“Anthony…” Aziraphale breathes.

The sound of the ring bouncing against the pavement is the loudest noise Crowley has ever heard.

“Oh, _ God_,” Crowley says, his eyes wide, desperately scanning the walkway in the darkness. “I fucking dropped it.”

“Oh—” Aziraphale says, stepping aside and looking around his feet.

“_Fuck_,” Crowley says, dropping down onto both knees and ignoring how much it hurts to do so. “I fucking _ dropped it—_”

“Anthony—” Aziraphale tries to say, but Crowley is very clearly only focused on trying to find the ring, which is proving quite difficult considering how dark it’s gotten. He bends down to try to help him. 

“I’m so sorry,” Crowley keeps saying over and over again, his eyes huge. “I’m so sorry— _ fuck—_”

Aziraphale holds up a gold band. “Is this it?”

“_Yes_,” Crowley says frantically, reaching forward with both hands to take it. He presses it between his palms so there’s no possible way for him to drop it again. “I’m so sorry, angel—”

“Anthony,” Aziraphale says, grabbing his shoulders. He’s smiling. “Stop apologizing.”

“Well, I just fucked _ that _ up!” Crowley insists. “I— I had a whole thing I was gonna say—” 

“Anthony—”

“— I’ve been practicing it for _ weeks _and—!”

“_Anthony_.” Aziraphale says, shifting from holding his shoulders to cupping his face. “You’re working yourself up.”

“Well I think I have a very good reason to be working myself up!” Crowley exclaims.

“_Darling_,” Aziraphale says, and his voice is gentle in the way it is whenever he has to talk Crowley down. “Why don’t you just— pick up where you left off?”

Crowley hesitates, his eyes still wide. “I—”

He raises one hand up to his head, and in the process knocks the ring back out of his hand; it jumps directly up into the air, and Crowley and Aziraphale both scramble for it, managing to catch it in both their hands before it can fall on the ground. Aziraphale offers him a nervous smile; Crowley isn’t as amused. 

“I forgot everything I was going to say,” he says miserably. “Which is really just— I mean I really had a whole thing planned. I was gonna quote the Bible and everything—”

“Anthony,” Aziraphale says, nudging him back on course.

“_Christ_,” Crowley says quietly. “I’m— _ so _sorry, angel, you don’t deserve a fucking— botched proposal—”

“_Anthony_,” Aziraphale says again, unable to keep a smile off his face.

“You know I could probably do it again,” Crowley says quickly. “Not right this second, obviously, that would be _ weird. _ But I mean— I could do it again another day and surprise you with it, I just wanted to do it today because— well _ tomorrow _is actually our anniversary but I figured we’d both be tired after work and—”

“Anthony,” Aziraphale says, very firmly. “Are you going to ask me to marry you or not?”

Crowley blinks, startled. “Please— _ please _marry me?”

The smile on Aziraphale’s face is the most radiant thing Crowley has ever seen. It makes him want to lean in and kiss him until neither one of them can breathe. 

“_Yes_,” Aziraphale says, squeezing their hands together. “Of course— of _ course. _I can’t imagine a universe where I’d say no.”

“Maybe one where you’re still closeted,” Crowley says immediately, without thinking much of it. “Or maybe one where we only just met last week. Or one where I decided to stay a Satanist. Or one where I’m a demon. Or—”

“I really don’t care about other universes,” Aziraphale says, still grinning. “I only care about this one where I’m saying yes because I love you so fucking much.”

Crowley can’t stop himself; he kisses him. It’s chaste and very quick but he’s absolutely certain he would have died if he hadn’t kissed him right that second. “I love you, too.”

Aziraphale is still smiling at him when he pulls away. “Do you think you can put the ring on me without dropping it?”

Crowley swallows, suddenly wrought with fear. “I don’t know.”

Aziraphale laughs. “Can you try?”

He lets go of the ring and Crowley takes it gingerly, his hands still shaking but not nearly as hard. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but if it doesn’t fit, the chances of me having a breakdown right here in the middle of the garden are almost certain.”

He slips it onto Aziraphale’s finger. It fits. Crowley just about collapses in relief. 

“It won’t be, you know, legally binding,” he adds, still holding Aziraphale’s hand, staring at the ring on his finger with starry eyes. “I was mostly just thinking, like, a church ceremony and we could exchange vows and start calling each other husband. Might not be good enough for the Queen but hopefully it’ll be good enough for, er… God.”

“I don’t really care who thinks it’s a valid union, aside from the two of us,” Aziraphale admits. “But for now, can I take you back home so I can kiss you until we both need a cold shower?”

Crowley lets out a shaky laugh. “I can’t think of anything I want more than that, but, er…” he hesitates, looking down. “You’re going to have to help me up, because I definitely just destroyed my knees.”

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!! you can find me on [tumblr](https://paintedvanilla.tumblr.com/) :0)


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